


Not Like the Movies

by Annegsp0983



Series: Sports Power Couple [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Bokuto Koutarou is a Good Friend, Break Up, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Makeup, Mild Language, Oikawa Tooru is a Good Friend, Ouch, Pro Volleyball Player Ushijima Wakatoshi, bc I have to have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annegsp0983/pseuds/Annegsp0983
Summary: In the years following graduation, life takes Ushijima and Mikasa in very different directions forcing them to make painful choices.Alternate title is a picture of Ushijima holding up a box labeled 'FEELINGS' saying "What am I supposed to do with this?"
Relationships: Ushijima Wakatoshi/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Sports Power Couple [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763608
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: Haikyuu14





	1. Blindsided

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK?  
> It's time for a continuation of this ridiculous universe, because self-indulgence is my quarantine theme. I was not planning on having this ready to post so quick, but I had a burst of creativity (and I spent a decent amount of time working on this chapter instead of my case-study assignment *shrugs* #priorities).  
> There is canon divergence here (obviously).

Ushijima Wakatoshi had never been good at feelings. Expressing them, dealing with them, figuring out what they meant. He blinked in the dark, staring at the ceiling of his living room.

For once in his life, he thought he had things figured out, then everything went to shit.

He exhaled a long breath, his stomach growling in the silence of the apartment.

How long had he been laying here?

He reached out, plucking his phone off the coffee table, exactly where he had slapped it with enough force to shatter the screen into a spiderweb of cracks the night before.

04:23

Eight hours.

He had been laying on his couch for eight hours, stewing over frustrations. He studied the screen, cracks marring the background picture's bright smile and blue eyes. Dropping the phone back to the coffee table with a dull thunk, Ushijima sat up.

Why was he so _angry_?

It wasn't like he hadn't seen this coming a mile away.

He had been foolish to think things would work out, given the circumstances.

He wandered back to his bedroom, tossing his shirt in the hamper. A scalding hot shower might do him some good. At least the water would give him something else to focus on rather than dwell on his own stupid naivety. He rested his forehead against the tile, dull throb in his skull from stress and skipping meals aching over his temples.

“Stupid.” He huffed, snatching body wash off the shelf.

Stupid didn't even begin to cover it.

Upon graduation from high school, Ushijima had embarked on a journey of incredible proportions with his volleyball career. His university of choice had done their job recruiting a fair number of outstanding students from his year, amassing what the sports writers had called the 'Dream Team'. While it took the group a few tries to mesh together, once they gained some traction, the wins began to rack up. A college national tournament sweep had been the first jewel in the crown for their team. Receiving an invitation to Olympic team tryouts and being one of the few non-National team members selected (Oikawa Tohru and Bokuto Kotarou being the others) and quickly becoming a mainstay in the starting rotation led to Ushijima being able to tick off a life achievement at the age of 19: winning Olympic silver.

At the same time, Saotome Mikasa was blazing down her path with equal fervor, qualifying for several of the top shows in America, then the Japanese National team, earning herself a gold in the individual show jumping event.

Being ridiculously successful in their careers left little time for anything else, including their nebulous relationship. High on their victories, the two rode their momentum, scraping out time here and there to visit before life continued on, pulling them apart further and further each time.

As the years continued on, Mikasa's smile lost its brightness, her usual pep waned. Ushijima knew something was not right, but due to his being shit when it came to feelings, he chose to ignore it.

Ignorance is bliss...until you get blindsided.

Three days before, the couple was out running errands, doing the usual mundane tasks like always when Mikasa opened her mouth, changing everything.

“The papers are having fun as usual.” She snorted at the blurry photo in the paper of them walking across a street touting the caption of 'Japan's Sports Power Couple out for a visit.'

“I guess.” Ushijima never paid the social pages any mind. What he and Mikasa did on their own time was their business.

“I'm sure they follow you all the time.” She huffed.

“I don't pay attention to it.”

“What are we doing?” Mikasa set her silverware down, fixing a serious stare on him.

“Eating breakfast?” Ushijima hesitated. This did not seem like the answer she was looking for, but he did not want to bring up the other potential direction this conversation might take.

“Yea...” She sighed. “Are you tired of this?” She pressed.

“This?” He repeated.

“Yea...this whatever we're doing?” Mikasa pushed her plate to the side.

“It's not optimal, but given our current professions, I don't see any way to improve it.” He offered, shoulders tensing.

“You don't want someone you could spend time with whenever you wanted?” She questioned.

There it was.

The elephant in the room Mikasa had mentioned a few times before, but Ushijima had brushed off. They were happy, why would they break up?

“No.” He set his fork down, staring at it before meeting her eyes. Anxiety trilled through his veins, turning his stomach. He wasn't prepared to have this conversation.

“Why?” Mikasa folded her arms on the table.

“I don't want to use someone else as a stand-in if I still have feelings for you, Saotome-san.” He stated.

“Are you ever going to use my first name anywhere outside of the bedroom?” She jested. There was no warmth to her voice.

“I'm sorry, it's a habit.” Ushijima conceded, shifting in his seat. If Mikasa was going to force this conversation, he would have preferred she wait until they were not in public. “Why? Have you found someone else?” He asked, edge to his voice.

“Look...” Mikasa took a deep breath. “I just feel like I am stringing you along here. You deserve to have someone that is devoted to you all the time, y'know? Someone who will be around to spend time with you.” She explained.

“I am satisfied with things the way they are.” He noted.

“You say that, but are you?” Mikasa huffed, frustration clipping her words. “Ushijima, I've been thinking about everything. I just don't feel like I want to do the whole raise kids and settle down thing. I-I love riding and teaching. It's time consuming as hell and I just don't want you thinking this is going somewhere that it won't...” She trailed, chewing her lower lip.

“You don't want to see me anymore because you don't want to have children?” He echoed, confused.

“No...” Her head ducked. “That's...” She sighed. “Wakatoshi...I'm wasting your time. I mean, what's the point of being in a relationship with someone if you're not going to settle down and have a family?”

“Why don't you want to have a family?” He asked, lost. Mikasa stared out the window, brows furrowed for some time before answering.

“I-I don't know, I just...don't. It's like why do you love volleyball? You just _do_. Like why do I love horses and riding when it is so consuming and exhausting...it's just who I am. So I just wanted you to know that because...” She rubbed a hand over her face, getting to her feet. Ushijima followed suit, falling in step with Mikasa once outside.

He had no idea how to discuss or process Mikasa's feelings. Wasn't part of the point of growing up and getting involved with someone to raise a family? His family unit wasn't very functional, but Ushijima had toyed with the idea of doing better than his parents in that regard.

Still, Mikasa was only 26. Would she eventually change her mind in that regard? Would Ushijima change his mind? How could he change his mind if he had never actually put any thought into the subject before?

They drew to a stop outside the apartment Mikasa and her brother used whenever they were in town.

“I-I have some stuff I gotta do today.” She gave him a thin smile.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For telling me how you feel.” Ushijima began, reaching out to touch her arm.

“You deserve to know. See ya.” She ducked away from his contact and disappeared into the building before he could continue.

*

Fast-forward to last night, when Ushijima texted Mikasa asking if they could speak, and she answered that she had to go back to America sooner than planned. The frustration of not being able to say his piece, or come up with any type of solution to Mikasa's statement boiled over. Ushijima had taken his anger out on his phone (something he never did) and proceeded to stew for the rest of the night on the couch, which brought him to now. The water began to grow cool, ending the shower's reprieve.

What in the hell was he supposed to do?

Was he supposed to continue talking to her like usual? Did he have to discuss his opinions on her feelings beforehand? Did Mikasa want space? Had she left for America to avoid any further discussions on the subject?

As Ushijima continued through his day, he came to discover how much time he actually spent messaging Mikasa or simply thinking about her. She had been a comforting thought and point of encouragement over the years. With all the time he spent thinking about her, one would think there would be more evidence of her existence in his apartment. The spartan décor had several photographs scattered throughout the living space. The only photo containing Mikasa was on his dresser, from their first Olympic games.

The door to his apartment opening sidelined his train of thought.

“Hey-hey! You're late, Waka.” Bokuto Kotarou all but exploded in the door, kicking off his shoes. What the man lacked in tact and ability to read the mood of the room, he made up for with enthusiasm in spades. To this day, everyone was impressed that Ushijima not only tolerated his fellow attacker, but formed a close friendship with him over the years.

If Ushijima could tolerate three years of the chaos that was Tendou Satori, he could tolerate anything.

“Sorry.” Ushijima fetched his bag from his room, turning to find Bokuto behind him in the hall.

“You sick?” His golden eyes narrowed.

“No.” Ushijima shouldered his bag.

“You haven't slept.” Bokuto's tone wasn't accusatory, it was simply pointing out the obvious.

“No.” There was no way to slide around Bokuto...not without more physical contact than Ushijima wanted at that moment. Hallways were not constructed to accommodate two men that were above average in size.

“Waka...you okay?” Bokuto perched a hand on his hip. Ushijima shifted his stare from his teammate to a framed display of their second Olympic team medal on the wall over the wing spiker's shoulder.

He was not okay. Not in the slightest. A very important part of his life was getting forcibly ripped from his grasp and there was nothing he could do to stop it but watch.

“I did not sleep well.” He conceded.

“Obviously.” Bokuto huffed, squinting further. After a few more uncomfortable seconds, Bokuto leaned back. “Well, let's grab a lil breakfast and go work out. Maybe some calories will help you feel better.” He dropped a large hand on Ushijima's shoulder. “If you wanna talk, or not talk cause sometimes I feel worse if I talk about shit...but I'll listen, right?”

“Thank you.” Ushijima ducked his head as Bokuto turned toward the door.

*

Ushijima was able to hide the growing rift between himself and Mikasa for several weeks. The cliché tincture of time did help him to break his habit of reaching for his phone in his spare time. During that time, Mikasa had maintained radio silence.

If she wasn't talking to him, it was okay for him to not talk to her, right?

“Whaddya think?” Ushijima blinked out of his thoughts. Nishinoya Yu was sprawled on the floor across from him in a stretch.

“About?” Ushijima finished tying his shoe.

“My tattoo idea, man!” Noya crowed. Ushijima was continually impressed at the level of volume the libero operated at. He was the only human that made Mikasa sound quiet.

_Shit_. She had wormed her way into his thoughts, again.

“You should plan carefully. You do not have as much surface area as the average human.” Ushijima quipped, knowing he could be blunt and suffer no repercussions from his teammate.

“Savage.” Tsukishima Kei scoffed, flopping to the floor next to them.

“Tsukki, you know he didn't mean it.” Noya shifted his stretch, bending himself in a manner that Ushijima almost found offensive.

“Of course he meant it.” The blonde smirked, adjusting his glasses. “The Miracle Boy never speaks unless us peasants need to hear it.”

“Why would Ushijima think we're birds?” Bokuto piped up, earning a groan from the middle blocker.

“PEASANTS, not pheasants, Bokuto.”

“Same thing, right?”

Ushijima tuned out the impending argument, leaning his forehead to his knees. Mikasa would find this conversation amusing.

“Alright you peasants, get to work.” Oikawa Tohru sauntered over, pulling Noya to his feet.

“Peasants?” Tsukishima grunted. Oikawa gave him a toothy smile, helping Bokuto up.

“Well seeing as I AM the Grand King...it only makes sense for you all to be my peasant followers...” The setter hummed, poking Tsukishima's forehead.

“The only thing royal about you is how much of a pain in the ass you are.” The blonde groused. “I'm stretching.”

“That you are.” He nudged Ushijima with a toe. “Are you asleep?”

“No.” Ushijima sat up. Oikawa thrust a hand in his face.

“Just checking.” He smirked, tugging Ushijima to his feet.

“What is all of this extra energy about? You nervous to face off against the Freak Duo this week?” Tsukishima complained from the floor. Oikawa clicked his tongue at the middle blocker.

“I fear no one.” He clipped, betraying his words. “Especially not my volley-brained kouhai and Shrimpy.”

“Right.”

“Tsukki-chan, you forget that we have our own giant volley-brained weapons.” Oikawa chuckled, winking at Ushijima.

“Right.”

“Although this one doesn't seem to think about volleyball as much anymore...” He narrowed his eyes at Ushijima, patting his cheek. Ushijima slapped his hand away, stepping back.

“Personal space.” He scowled at the setter, earning a laugh. Oikawa was by far worse than Bokuto with the invasion of personal space and constant chatter.

He was possibly worse than Tendou in those regards.

“Ah but you might be lonely, since you haven't seen Mika-chan for a while.” Oikawa teased, not leaving him alone.

“Now is not the time to begin a discussion in regards to the differences between you and Saotome-san.” Ushijima clipped, walking away. Oikawa howled with laughter.

“You're so romantic.” He trailed behind, laughing. “How long have you two been together and you're still all Saotome-san...” He wheezed.

“Aww c'mon, Oikawa, he's just being respectful.” Bokuto swooped into the rescue...or to nail the coffin shut.

“Right. He probably won't drop the -san until they get married.” Oikawa teased, unknowingly hitting a conversational landmine.

“Dude.” Bokuto grabbed Ushijima's shoulders. “When ARE you guys gonna get married?” He demanded in possibly the loudest voice of all time. Ushijima froze. How the fuck was he supposed to navigate out of this without everyone finding out he and Mikasa had not spoken in over a month? Oikawa's brow furrowed slightly, eyes catching his trepidation.

“Kou-chan, you can't ask him to think about something other than volleyball this early in the morning.” Oikawa scolded politely, draping an arm over the attacker, ruffling his highlighted hair. “You know that.” He shot Ushijima a stare that said there would be questions later as payment for Oikawa's bailing him out, steering Bokuto toward the net. “Wanna hit some tosses?”

Bokuto exploded with delight, and Ushijima felt like he was going to puke.


	2. Break-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima realizes all he can do is watch the deterioration of his relationship bear down on him like an oncoming train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really bad a summaries. I mean, the chapter name kinda sums it up...  
> Realized I needed to adjust the tags a bit, bc...the implications of sex...but nothing graphic.

“So,” Oikawa rested his arms on the small table in his kitchen. “What is going on with you and Mika-chan?” Ushijima managed to avoid the uncomfortable conversation for a week, but Oikawa's tenacity on the volleyball court was only matched by his desire to meddle in his teammate's lives.

“Nothing.” Ushijima did not want to discuss this.

Ever.

“Lies.” Oikawa scolded, sipping his coffee. “You should know better than to try to hide things from me, Ushijima.” His brown eyes fixed on the taller man with a hard stare. Ushijima decided that giving Oikawa what he wanted would get this uncomfortable discussion over with faster.

“I have not spoken to Saotome-san in six weeks.” He conceded in a quiet voice. The other man straightened, blinking.

“Six weeks?” His brow furrowed. “Holy shit what happened?” All of Oikawa's usual bluster and haughty airs disappeared.

“I-I am not sure.” Ushijima gave a careful answer. Every time he thought about and replayed their discussion over in his mind, he came up with more questions to ask. Questions that were basically a moot point if Mikasa didn't want to talk to him anymore.

“Did you guys fight or something?” Oikawa pulled him back to their conversation.

“No.”

“Then you just decided that was it?”

“I...no.”

“She found someone else?” Oikawa raised his eyebrows.

“No.”

“You found someone else?” His brows arched further.

“No!” Ushijima snapped. “I don't know what happened. She dumped all this shit on me and left. I haven't spoken to her since.”

“Shit?” Oikawa pressed. Ushijima shrugged, frustration growing by the second. “Like what exactly?” He prompted.

“How she felt about our lack of free time. She said she thought she was stringing me along.” Ushijima explained, turning his mug on its coaster.

“Stringing you along.” Oikawa repeated.

“Because she is never around.” Ushijima glanced up. “She said she did not want to have children and it was unfair to me.” Oikawa's eyes widened slightly.

“You guys have discussed kids?”

“No.”

“Do you want kids?”

“I don't know.” Ushijima stared at the mug. “I don't know what I want. Do you?”

“Eh...maybe in the future. I am too busy to think about much in that regard right now except to NOT get someone pregnant.” The setter chuckled. “So how do you feel about all of this?”

“I don't know.”

“Bullshit. You're not happy.” He pursed his lips.

“I agree, but I am not sure how I feel about Saotome-san's feelings. I'm not allowed to be upset because someone doesn't share my feelings on a matter that is very personal, am I?”

“You are allowed to be unhappy about how it affects you though.” Oikawa noted. “So what are you going to do?”

“I don't know.” Ushijima shook his head.

“You don't?”

“No.” He exhaled, suddenly feeling quite defeated.

“You're not going to try to talk to her?”

“She obviously does not wish to speak to me, so I might as well leave her alone.”

“Ushijima, I think that is wrong, but I can't tell you what to do here-” Oikawa started in, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Thank you.” Ushijima interrupted, getting to his feet, walking out of Oikawa's apartment.

9 months later

Ushijima picked up his phone as it vibrated on the desk. “Yes?”

“Ushijima, did you hear?” Oikawa's voice rushed through the phone.

“No.”

“Ugh, let me in. I'm outside.” the phone cut off, and there was a loud knock on the door. Ushijima opened it to find Oikawa leaning on a suitcase.

“Wha-” Oikawa cut him off, stepping inside.

“Iwa-chan called me. Mika-chan's dad is in the hospital, not doing well.” He slid off his shoes.

“Oh.” Ushijima did not like where this was heading.

“Let's go.” Oikawa drug him down the hall.

“Where?”

“Home to visit, dummy.” Oikawa opened a closet, finding Ushijima's luggage.

“No.” He protested.

“You giant dumbass.” Oikawa spat, rifling through Ushijima's closet and drawers, packing clothes. “You want to talk to her, here's your chance.”

“I don't...” Ushijima trailed.

What DID he want?

“Regardless of what you guys are now, she is your friend.” Oikawa huffed, zipping the bag. “If my dad was in the hospital, I would want my friends to check on me, even if I hadn't seen them in a while.”

Ushijima was ready to step out into traffic by the time they arrived at the station. Oikawa's father picked them up, driving over to the hospital.

“Genma seems to be doing better, but something is wrong with his heart.” The older man explained. “Visiting hours end soon, so we will have a short visit tonight.” They filed into the hospital, following the staff to the ward in intensive care. There was a small group in the visitor's waiting area, of which Ushijima recognized several.

“Tohru, I'm glad you both were able to make it.” His mother hugged them both. Iwaizumi Hajime and his mother were sitting quietly beside them.

“You guys didn't have to miss anything important?” Oikawa's childhood friend got to his feet, clapping the setter on the shoulder.

“Nope. Close friend's illness is more important than an off-day practice.” Oikawa kissed Iwaizumi-san on the cheek.

“Long-time no see, man.” Iwaizumi shook Ushijima's hand.

“Yes.”

“I didn't know if you would come.” Iwaizumi's statement was left hanging. Oikawa's mother ushered the two into the room with Saotome Genma.

Did that mean Mikasa had spoken to Hajime about their relationship?

The room was dim and quiet save the ping of monitors and the hum of a fluid pump.

“Oh...Tohru- _darling_.” Saotome Wendy got to her feet, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you for coming.” She hummed. “Ushijima- _dear_.” She cleared her throat as her voice wavered, wrapping her arms around his ribs. Ushijima glanced to the side, spotting Mikasa next to the bed. She shook her head, getting to her feet.

“ _Mom...you're being dramatic._ ” She pried her mom off Ushijima. “Thanks for coming.” She patted his arm, then punched Oikawa in the shoulder. “Dad's sleeping it off right now, so he's not going to be much for conversation.”

“ _Mikasa-darling, let them stay at the house if they want._ ” Wendy stared at them, distraught. “You can stay tonight?”

“We can stay. We will have to head back tomorrow at some point.”

“Then stay at the house. I don't know how busy yours is, Tohru...” Wendy fretted.

“Thank you. We will figure it out.” Oikawa squeezed her shoulder.

“ _You have what you need, Mom_?”

“ _Yes, Dear._ ”

“Okay. Bye old man.” Mikasa pressed a kiss to her dad's forehead, and led them out of the room.

“You guys are welcome to stay at the house. Ranma won't get in until tomorrow, so there is room.”

“I'll stay with my parents, but Ushijima can stay there.” Oikawa volunteered him before Ushijima could protest. He caught Hajime giving them a cautious stare.

“Only if it is not too much trouble.” Ushijima watched Mikasa, waiting for her to react.

“No trouble at all.” She shrugged. “Thank you all for visiting. Mom is staying here tonight and she said please come back when you can tomorrow.”

“I will bring her some breakfast and spare clothes.” Iwaizumi-san hugged Mikasa's shoulders tightly.

“Thank you.”

“Do you need a ride home?” Hajime asked.

“Please...if you don't mind me dragging this Log along, too?” She jerked her head at Ushijima.

“Not a problem.”

Ushijima was not sure what to expect when he and Mikasa walked into her house. She pushed the door shut, slipping off her shoes.

“Sorry I didn't...” She shrugged.

“What happened?” He sat down to take off his shoes and avoid that stupid low doorway.

“Well, Dad was supposed to have a shoulder surgery, and his heart messed up when he was anesthetized. They had to do the whole shock with the paddles shit and everything.” She picked up Ushijima's bag. He followed her up the stairs.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“They think so. He will have to stay for a few days for some more tests to see if he needs medicine, or a pacemaker.” Mikasa opened the door to her room, flipping on the lights. Ushijima trailed behind, unsure of if now was the time to press any other discussion.

“Are you alright?” He asked. She set his bag down, gesturing to her bed, no longer clad in the brightly colored comforter with frolicking unicorns, but now a modest hue of blue. Ushijima sat, watching Mikasa fidget with the hem of her shirt.

“Not really.” She confessed, allowing her cheerful facade to drop now they were alone.

“Is there any way I can help?” Ushijima wanted to ask different questions, but even his blunt ass knew now was not the time. Mikasa sighed.

“Not really.” She shrugged a shoulder, moving closer. She trailed her fingers along his arms, not meeting his eyes.

“Would you like me to leave?” He offered. She stood between his knees, curling her hands in his shirt.

“Just stop talking?” She pleaded, leaning her forehead against his. Gods, he had missed her...missed this.

“But we should...discuss,” Ushijima insisted, tucking blonde hair behind her ear.

“You Log,” Mikasa gently clapped her palms over his cheeks, “Now is not the time. It's late, I'm exhausted.” Her blue eyes searched his face, gaze falling to his lips. “I promise we will talk tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Ushijima cleared his throat when Mikasa would not release her grip on his face. She silenced his protest with a kiss.

“I told you no talking tonight.” She spoke, lips brushing his. Her hands slid down to his neck.

“Is this okay?” He confirmed, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt.

“Yes.”

Ushijima awoke tangled up in the blankets and Mikasa's limbs, awful crick in his neck. Even though last night now felt like some sort of terrible mistake, he could not bring himself to regret it. The guilt of not speaking to Mikasa for the better part of a calendar year was not strong enough to overpower his desire to shrug off every responsibility known to stay curled up next to her. He shifted, trying to get his neck to stop aching and Mikasa sat up. She stared at him, mortification tugging at her features. She scooted to the edge of the bed, grabbing his shirt off the floor, pulling it on.

*

Mikasa turned her back on Ushijima, exhaling a shaky breath. She had done exactly what she did not want to do. In a moment of weakness, she had allowed herself the guilty pleasure of seeking comfort from Ushijima. She had not planned on him showing up at the hospital last night. She had not been prepared for the overwhelming feelings of loneliness to come crashing in around her when he showed up out of the blue. Mikasa had expected Ushijima to find out about her dad. She was going to tell him today. All of her carefully laid out plans to control the situation and allow them to continue moving forward without getting tangled up together again went out the window when Oikawa fucking Tohru stuck his meddlesome perfect hair and beautiful face in her dad's hospital room with Ushijima in tow last night.

How _dare_ that asshole?

Didn't he know she was trying to _HELP_ Ushijima move on?

Didn't he realize that Ushijima deserved _better_ than a girlfriend that only had two spare weeks a year and never wanted to start a family?

Why the fuck was the practical choice so damn painful?

Why did it seem like she was making the worst mistake of her life?

“Mikasa-san?” Ushijima's hand stroked along her spine.

“I'm sorry.” She choked out the words. She could not keep yo-yoing them back and forth. She could not be what he needed...what he _deserved_.

“About?” He hummed. She turned, taking his hand in hers.

“Last night.” She started, stubbornly holding back her emotions. “It's not fair to play this long-distance crap when both of us are clearly devoted to our dreams and we are on two different sides of the globe. I can't ask you to spend your life like this.” She stated.

“But,” He propped up on an elbow, rubbing the vestiges of sleep from his face.

“Wakatoshi, please. Where is this going?” She pleaded for him to see reason.

“But I-” He started, unable to find words.

“Wakatoshi, I can't do this to you.” Emotions cracked her voice.

“Sa...I...” Ushijima swallowed, numb panic thrumming through his veins.

“Let's just...not do this to each other anymore, okay? It's not fair to you.” Mikasa got to her feet, stalking out of the bedroom before the dam holding her devastation burst in front of Ushijima.

*

Ushijima flopped onto his back as the bathroom door shut with a click. He replayed the conversation over and over until he wanted to vomit.

Mikasa had ended it.

He had been hopeful that she had a change of heart last night, but their passion had been almost bittersweet, like it would be the last time he ever held Saotome Mikasa. He drug hands over his face with a slow exhale.

Holy shit did this hurt.

The hurt was different than physical pain.

It was deeper than any loss or obstacle he had ever encountered before.

Ushijima slipped out of bed, finding his bag and getting dressed. He gathered his clothes that had been tossed aside haphazardly the night before, and slipped out of the house before Mikasa emerged from the bathroom.

Ushijima texted Oikawa to inform him that he was heading back to Tokyo earlier than they planned. Oikawa had asked what happened, but Ushijima was not ready to discuss anything, so he switched his phone off.

He doubted he would ever be ready to discuss losing the one person he quite possibly loved.

Sleep would not come on the train ride home. Every time Ushijima closed his eyes, the conversation replayed. He arrived home to find Bokuto in his apartment, cooking dinner. No doubt there at Oikawa's bidding.

“Hey hey. I'm makin' burgers.” His teammate hooted from the kitchen.

“Why are you in my apartment?” Ushijima asked, edge to his voice.

“Uh...welllll,” Bokuto's thick shoulders shrugged, hiding his terrible inability to lie. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“I was not supposed to arrive home until later this evening.” Ushijima pointed out, washing his hands.

“Yea...” Bokuto hummed. “Best friend's intuition?” He offered. Ushijima huffed a breath, fetching a glass of water.

“I'm sure Oikawa had nothing to do with your intuition, did he.”

“What did Tsum-Tsum always say? I plead the 6th?” Bokuto flipped the burgers in the skillet.

“I am quite sure it is 'You plead the 5th' in reference to the 5th Amendment of the American Constitution.” Ushijima corrected. Bokuto deflated.

“I always get that shit wrong.”

“Inconsequential details.” Ushijima shrugged.

“So...you don't look too hot.” Bokuto tried to be tact, but failed.

“I would prefer to not speak about it.” Ushijima commented, sitting at the counter in his kitchen.

“That sucks...” Bokuto worked on a plate, sliding a burger on a bed of greens in front of Ushijima several minutes later.

“Thank you.”

“Well, you're kinda my best friend, and I would be a huge dick if I didn't try to help.” Bokuto perched on the other stool with his plate. “I know you don't wanna talk, but if you change your mind, I'm always down to listen okay?” He nudged the other man.

“Thank you.” Ushijima tucked into the food, despite having no appetite.

“And if ya need advice, we will have to call Akaashi, because I am shit at advice according to everyone.” He laughed in between bites.

Ushijima expected to get over his feelings of loss and emptiness from the breakup somewhat quickly because they had not spoken for the past year until Mikasa had surfaced last week. He expected to feel some sadness, some sort of loss. What he did not expect was to feel an empty gnawing guilt that got worse every day, regardless of what he did. By the end of the week it was all Ushijima had left in him to leave the apartment. Thank goodness it was the off-season and practice was scaled back to allow the players to rest.

His phone chirped with another text.

Probably Oikawa, bothering him about meeting them for lunch. Ushijima left the phone on his bedside table as it chirped again. He buried his head under a pillow, wishing he could fall asleep with the ease he enjoyed as a teenager. Sleeping off his bad mood was probably not the best plan, but it was the only plan he had at the moment.

The front door to his apartment opened.

“Yo Waka!” Bokuto crowed. The door slammed with his usual elegance. Ushijima groaned. He was not in the mood. “Waka-waka-where ya at?” Bokuto sung off-key, moving through the apartment.

“Bokuto-san, you're being loud.” Another voice quietly chided, echoing down the hall.

“Kaaashiiii, I am not.” Bokuto protested.

“I doubt he is in the refrigerator, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi Keiji's voice filled the doorway.

“I dunno, Kaash...he's pretty flexible for a big guy.” Bokuto mused.

“Well that may be the case, but I'm certain he is in bed.” The mattress shifted with someone's weight. “Ushijima-san?” A gentle hand pressed against his shoulder. “Are you alright?” Akaashi coaxed.

“Hey! You found him.” Bokuto cheered. “You sick, Waka?”

“I do not feel well.” Ushijima lied from under the pillows. He grunted as Bokuto landed on his back.

“Bokuto-san!” Akaashi scolded. “If he is sick, you shouldn't jump on him.”

“Yea well I don't think it's that kind of sick.” Bokuto wallowed around, finding a comfortable spot in between Ushijima and the wall.

“I just need to sleep.” Ushijima protested as Bokuto snatched the pillow off his head.

“You've been sleepin' for a week. You got the sleeping sickness?”

“Bokuto-san...” Akaashi huffed, giving Ushijima an apologetic grimace.

“Oikawa told me.” Bokuto poked Ushijima's forehead. “Mika-chan broke up with you.” He stated. Ushijima held still. He was not going to be able to avoid this conversation any longer. Oikawa probably found out from Iwaizumi.

“Yes.” He grunted, resting his chin in his arms.

“I'm sorry.” Bokuto hummed, scooching closer so his head was leaning on Ushijima's shoulder.

“You did not cause it.” Ushijima shrugged.

“Was it because you guys never see each other?” Bokuto asked.

“Yes.” Ushijima nodded.

“That's fair.” Akaashi affirmed. Ushijima snapped up to his elbows, fixing a hard glare at him. The dark-haired man stared at him, expression flat.

_He was right._

“Bro.” Bokuto squeezed his shoulders. “You guys see each other what? Twice a year if you're lucky?” Ushijima lay back down.

“Basically.”

“That's not a relationship.” Akaashi noted.

“But,” Ushijma protested, seeing their reasoning and not able to defend his position at all.

“I don't understand.” Bokuto rolled on his side, facing Ushijima. “You could have anything and everything you want, but you're still hung up on your high school crush?”

“She's not a crush. I care for Saotome-san.”

“I understand, but...she says it isn't fair to you,” Akaashi started.

“I don't care. I am okay with it.” Ushijima cut him off, edge to his voice.

“But it's also not fair to her either...” Akaashi finished, staring him down.

Ushijima opened his mouth to retort, but there was nothing he could say to refute the former setter's statement. Akaashi was right. He wasn't treating Mikasa fairly.

“Bro.” Bokuto patted a large hand on his shoulder. “You can't expect others to have the exact same feelings you do. You may be all in on seeing her twice a year in the midst of your busy life, but what if she isn't? What if she wants to see you more than what? 3 weeks total in 52? You can't expect her to live unhappy just because you are.” Their statements sank in, filling Ushijima with remorse and dread.

“What do I do?” He asked in a quiet tone.

“Are you willing to quit your career and move to NY?” Akaashi questioned.

“No, but,”

“Then you gotta let her go.” Bokuto squeezed his shoulder.

“But I don't want...I don't want to.” Ushijima swallowed the lump in his throat threatening to constrict until he couldn't speak.

“I know you don't, and I'm sure it hurt Mikasa-san just as bad to say it to you, but...these things happen.” Akaashi offered, getting to his feet.

“You wanna hang out today, or you need some alone time?” Bokuto sat up, stretching his shoulders.

“I...” Ushijima pressed his face into the mattress, hoping that if he cut off the supply of oxygen, he would wake up and this would be some terrible dream. “I don't know.”

He was acting foolish.

“That's okay.” Bokuto hummed. “'Kaash'll go get us some breakfast, so you don't have to worry about cooking.” Ushijima nodded, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

This was it.

It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Ushijima and Tendou are really good friends, but let me have my Ushijima & Bokuto BFF bro-ship!!   
> I like to think that Akaashi has this depressed attacker empath/spidey sense, and he is all- I must go! I feel an attacker moping somewhere, my people need me!- like a disturbance in the Force or something lol.
> 
> And we have officially reached the end of chapters that I have WRITTEN. The rest is in outline and most of the dialogue is written, buuuuuuuuut...*lays on floor* I'll do my best to get it finished up in a timely manner. The writer's block has been hitting hard this week and I'm freaking out because I have two things to WRITE and submit for a MS course in a week...and I can't get it to....come together and everything reads like Frankenstein grunt and point...  
> *screeching*  
> (and we'll ignore the fact I have been playing DAI again and dove back into the Pavellen feels, which are THE BEST feels...)  
> XD  
> Thanks for reading/comments/kudos!!


	3. Break Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Ushijima and Mikasa attempt to move on after the break-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not sure how to denote at points where English vs. Japanese is being spoken, it shouldn't be TOO hard to figure out, but I apologize if that takes away from things a bit.  
> Also, many apologies for the gap of time it took me to churn this out. Summer is my busy season, all things considering...and I just haven't been in the proper mood to work on this story. I don't want to half-ass it.  
> Gonna WHOLE-ASS it.  
> *rimshot

“Oh he's cute!”

Mikasa slapped her phone facedown on the table as her roommate, Mandy, leaned over her shoulder.

“Rude.”

“Why are you blushing? Lemme see.” The taller girl plucked the phone off the table, squinting at the photo. Mikasa busied herself, stuffing dinner into her mouth, hoping her roommate didn't scroll too far and discover why she was trolling a particular person's social media page.

“Ohhhh this guy is hot.” The girl's green eyes cut to Mikasa. “Looks like trouble, but he's probably worth every ounce of it!”

“That's because the Trash King is exactly that.” Mikasa quipped before she could stop herself. “Trouble.”

“Trash King?” Mandy scrolled along the photos a bit further. “I get it now.” She hummed. “You and your volleyball boys.” She set the phone back on the table.

“It's not like that.”

“So is Mr. Trash King single?”

“NO. The Trash King is not what I am looking for.” She sputtered.

“But you're looking?” Mandy plopped into a chair with a bowl of cereal.

“Cereal?”

“It's calories, and you're changing the subject.” She swallowed a mouthful before continuing. “So what happened to Mr. Perfect Athlete dude?”

“I broke up with him.” She admitted in a quiet voice. Mikasa had felt guilty for hiding the breakup from her roommate, but she knew there would be too many questions she couldn't answer with a firm yes or no.

“Wha? Why?” Mandy froze. Mikasa shrugged, setting her sandwich down.

“I just couldn't keep stringing him along. We never get to see each other, I feel like he wants more, but I can't give him more right now.”

“So it was a mercy killing?” She hummed, spooning more cereal into her mouth.

“What?”

“You ended it before it died a long painful death on its own?” The other girl explained with a shrug, tossing red hair over her shoulder.

“I guess...yea” Mikasa admitted, guilt tugging at her insides.

“That sucks.”

“I thought I would feel better after I did it.” Mikasa mumbled, leaning her forehead on a palm.

“You don't?”

“No. I feel so much worse. Guilty. You didn't see his face. Like I crushed his entire world.”

“I thought volleyball was his world?”

“So did I...” Mikasa admitted.

“He will get over it. So will you. It will take time.” Her roommate answered with a sigh. Mikasa fixed her with an angry glare. “Gah! I sound so cliché. I am sorry.” She apologized.

“I understand what you're trying to say, bu-” Mikasa paused as Mandy's cellphone rang.

“Oh, gotta take this! Work calls.” She deposited her cereal bowl in the sink, strolling out of the room. Mikasa turned her phone over, unlocking the screen. Staring back at her was a photo of Oikawa, Bokuto and Ushijima grinning at the camera with the caption- 'Introduced these dorks to yoga today! #fitspo'

The photo was from two weeks ago, but Mikasa could not stop herself from liking it.

*

“So about this Trash King,” Mandy set a beer in front of Mikasa.

“Trash King? What kinda nickname is that?” One of their friends crowed.

“It's this cutie pie Mika keeps stalking on the 'Gram.” Mandy elbowed her.

“Ugh. No.” Mikasa took a drink of beer. “Shut up, Mandy. I grew up with...” She hesitated to use actual names because in the volleyball world, Oikawa was quite famous, and the LAST thing she needed was Mandy and their hyena friends teasing her about 'another' volleyball boy. She was trying to distance herself from everything that would drag her back into contact with Ushijima, not get in deeper!

“You grew up with the Trash King?”

“Oh OH is he the ex-boyfriend?”

“No and double NO.” Mikasa groused, drinking her beer quickly.

“But he's hot.” Mandy grinned.

“Not THAT hot.” Mikasa rolled her eyes.

“Mikaaaa lemme see.”

“Is it this guy?” One of their friends had started trolling through her social media.

“No. That's my brother.” 

“THIS GUY?” A phone displaying a photo of Bokuto flexing with a grin was shoved in her face.

“Um. No.”

“Holy shit can you introduce me to him, because ARMS.”

“That would go over great because Bokuto loves Americans, but his English is terrible.” Mikasa laughed.

“I don't need to talk to the guy, just stare at him.” The girl mused.

“This one?” A photo of Oikawa.

“That's the Trash King.” Mikasa admitted.

“Holy shit, Mika...” A phone was held up with a photo from several years prior of her and Ushijima at the Olympics. “ _That's_ your ex-boyfriend?”

“Uh...” Mikasa had seriously underestimated her friends' abilities to troll into the depths of social media so quickly.

“Oh my God that guy is fuckin' gorgeous.” Her friend murmured. Mandy glanced at Mikasa, eyebrows raised. Mikasa rolled her eyes.

“Yea, yea, but there's a reason he's an EX-boyfriend, so no draggin' up the past!” Mandy leered at her. “Tell us more about this Trash King guy.”

“I refuse.” Mikasa finished her beer. “And just for that, you are buying me another beer.” She quipped, silently thanking her roommate for the save.

*

Mikasa shoved a suitcase aside, dragging the box behind it out of the closet. Being a packrat sometimes had its advantages. She opened the box, rifling through the contents. The notebook containing all her high school show pattern notes and the first few years after was in this box somewhere. The variety would be nice for some of her younger trainees to work through in preparation for the winter circuits. She pulled a stack of books out, leafing through them. She paused, finding a smaller manila envelope sandwiched between two horse books.

“What's...” She paused, once the envelope was open. She knew exactly what it was.

She knew, and continued to slide the contents out, against her better judgment. Photos from high school stared back at her. Her friends with whom she had lost touch, the equestrian club from her third year of high school, part of the third years from the volleyball club. She hesitated, knowing which other photos were underneath.

She shouldn't look.

She shouldn't, but she did.

Mandy opened the back door, her dog Riley bounding in ahead.

“Mika I'm back! You wanna go catch dinner at Taco Time with AJ?” She called. When Mikasa didn't reply, or Riley rumble back down the stairs, she headed up. “Mika?” She paused in Mikasa's doorway, finding her roommate and her dog on the floor, photos spread out.

“I am a fucking moron!” Mikasa wailed, face down on the throw rug.

“Holy shit, you chaotic dumbass, what have you done?” Mandy wandered in, sitting beside her friend.

“I was looking for my old show notes and I found stuff.” Mikasa mumbled, voice wavering. “I had to go and look at it!”

“Aww Mika.” Mandy scooped the photos up, sliding them back into the envelope.

“I am so weak and stupid.” Mikasa rolled onto her back, wiping her face.

“No, you are human and have feelings.” Mandy placed the envelope inside of a book, stacking it into the box. “All valid.”

“I don't want feelings.” She groused.

“Then you would be a robot.”

“Sign me up.” She huffed.

“Mika, it's normal to grieve.”

“But it's been months since...”

“Did you actually allow yourself to feel sad and grieve over the breakup, or did you just stuff everything down and plow on?”

“But I shouldn't feel bad if I'm the one doing the breaking up.” Mikasa protested.

“Take it from the president of the bury and plow on club, you should cut yourself some slack and give yourself time to feel sad about it. You guys were together for what? 4 years?”

“Try 7.” Mikasa folded her arms over her eyes.

“Then you definitely need more than two weeks to feel bad.” Mandy got to her feet, scooting the box back in the closet. “No more hiding in closets feeling sorry for yourself. Do it out in the open.” She held out a hand. Mikasa grasped it, hauling herself to her feet.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Doctor's orders.” The redhead winked, tugging Mikasa into a tight embrace.

“You would say that...” Mikasa grumbled.

“Let's go get tacos and beers with AJ. That will make you feel better.”

“I don't know...”

“C'mon. You know AJ. She's an absolute dumpster-fire shit-show when it comes to dating, she won't judge if you're feeling blue.”

“I don't want to drag everyone down.”

“Mika...you actually think you can drag AJ down? That girl is literally bottled sunshine. She laughs off everything.” Mandy slung an arm over her shoulders. “It will do you some good to get out and laugh.”

*

Mikasa shut a stall door, hanging the halter on the hook. Bolt nickered at her through the bars, once sleek black face now dotted with white hairs.

“You good old man.” She held a treat through the bars. “Am I being stupid?” Bolt took the treat, chewing it slowly. “Did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?” She asked, voice hushed. Bolt stretched his nose out, rubbing it on her fingers, looking for another treat. Mikasa slipped him another treat before heading out of the barn. She strolled to her car, checking texts.

_(Hajime): Your Dad is doing well, complains that rehab is too easy tho._

_(Hajime): You doin okay? You never explained what happened._

Mikasa tossed her things into her car, dropping the phone in the console. She didn't explain what happened because she couldn't explain in black and white terms WHY she did what she did.

_I am such a chickenshit._

She couldn't even think about the words break-up. She was avoiding it. She needed to heed Mandy's advice, to just cry for a few days. Then she would feel better.

Or she would feel worse.

Every day that passed, guilt ate at Mikasa, reminding her of how much she enjoyed her relationship with Ushijima. Her new habit of trolling Oikawa and Bokuto's social media pages showed that Ushijima was healthy and doing well in training.

Was he hurting as bad as she was?

Or was he able to move past it?

She snorted, pulling into her driveway. Of course he was able to move past their break-up. He was fucking perfect. She unlocked the door, shucking her sneakers in their spot on the rack.

“Mandy?” She waited for a reply or Riley to rumble into the living room.

Nothing.

She plopped onto the couch, thumb hovering over Iwaizumi's messages. She really really did not want to get into the break-up with anyone, but Iwaizumi would be safe, right? He was friends with both of them, so he was neutral territory.

_(Mikasa): My old man sounds like he's being a pain in the ass._

_(Mikasa): But thanks for taking care of him?_

She froze as ellipses appeared next to Iwaizumi's name.

SHIT.

He was around his phone.

_(Hajime): Don't worry about it. I'll get him whipped back into shape before you know it._

_(Hajime): And I'm not letting you avoid me._

_(Hajime): between you and ShittyKawa, I am well versed in dealing with avoidance techniques._

_(Hajime): I'm gonna win, so you should just get to talking._

_(Mikasa): There isn't much to talk about._

_(Mikasa): We never saw each other, so I broke it off before it got worse._

_(Hajime): Worse?_

_(Hajime): Were you guys fighting?_

_(Mikasa): No._

_(Mikasa): Not fighting, but..._

_(Hajime): But?_

_(Mikasa): I could tell that Ushijima wanted more._

_(Hajime): More...like more what?_

_(Hajime): Sex?_

_(Hajime): Marriage?_

_(Mikasa): Ugh stop._

_(Mikasa): Let me explain._

_(Mikasa): I just felt like no matter what we did, our lives would never mesh together like regular people's do._

_(Mikasa): I felt like I was stringing him along because we never talked about the whole settle down have a family thing, and I didn't think it was fair for him to not know how I feel about that._

_(Hajime): So you broke up because he wants kids?_

_(Mikasa): Kinda?_

_(Hajime): KINDA?_

_(Mikasa): I mean, I told him I didn't want kids and it wasn't fair to him._

_(Hajime): And?_

_(Mikasa): What?_

_(Hajime): What did he say?_

_(Mikasa): I don't know. I kinda left because I didn't want to hear how he felt?_

_(Hajime): Are you serious?_

_(Hajime): YOU are scared of what someone else feels?_

_(Mikasa): You're a dick._

_(Hajime): And you're an asshole._

_(Hajime): You didn't even give the guy a chance to explain himself? Tell you his thoughts? You just dumped this on him and left?_

_(Mikasa): Yea..._

_(Hajime): Mikasa, that is the dumbest shit ever._

_(Mikasa): Hey!_

_(Hajime): We're talking ShittyKawa levels of stupidity here._

_(Mikasa): WHAT?_

_(Hajime): You have to give the other person a chance to talk about how they feel. A relationship is not one-sided._

_(Hajime): You should talk to him._

_(Mikasa): First of all, no and second, NO._

_(Hajime): Mikasa, you're being stubborn. I'm sure if you reached out, Ushijima would not tell you to fuck off._

_(Mikasa): Pretty sure Ushijima Wakatoshi is incapable of speaking the word fuck._

_(Hajime): Okay, yeah, but you get my point? He's not going to tell you to get lost._

_(Mikasa): He's not telling you to say this shit, right?_

_(Hajime): No, he's not. You're both my friends and I don't think your breaking up was a good choice..._

_(Hajime): My opinion._

_(Hajime): Oh, Mom's calling, gtg!_

_(Mikasa): Okay._

With a frustrated grunt, Mikasa slapped her phone on table, ignoring the slight crunching sensation it made. She clenched her fists, marching up the stairs, fighting the devastation straining to break through.

What had she done?

This was why she didn't want to cry over things in the first place: it made her feel worse. She was so confused. Iwaizumi thought they should talk? She sunk to the floor of the shower, letting the water drum against her back, sobs echoing off the walls. Iwaizumi confirmed her fears of making a huge mistake by breaking up, but she couldn't go back on her decision and reach out to him now! That would make her appear weak and wishy-washy.

Why was she feeling something akin to relief after the conversation? Did she actually want Ushijima back in her life?

Of course she did.

It was too late to reach out and talk to him. By now, he was probably over her and having the time of his life. If she tried to reach out, he would probably reject her and that would hurt even worse.

Mikasa had indeed, made the worst fucking decision of her life.

Mandy paused, hand at the bathroom door, ready to beat a hole in it. For the third time in a week, Mikasa was crying in the shower. Ever since Mikasa had found that envelope of photographs, she had been distraught. Mandy still didn't understand WHY her roommate had broken up with her boyfriend, but she kept getting the feeling it wasn't what Mikasa had really wanted. 

She huffed a sigh, turning away from the bathroom door. She marched down the stairs, spotting Mikasa's phone on the coffee table.

“Mika, you are going to choke me out for doing this, but it needs to be done.” Mandy picked up the phone, unlocking it. She sifted through the contacts, finding the one she wanted, typing the information into her phone.

“Definitely going to beat the shit out of me for this...” She hummed, setting her roommate's phone down.

*

Ushijima clicked his alarm off, stretching his arms. He didn't particularly feel like getting out of bed, but he knew that if he skipped out on the bi-weekly 'yoga dates' with Bokuto and Oikawa, there would be retribution.

Most likely in the form of both guys showing up at his apartment right after class, sweaty and noisy.

Ushijima sat up, wrinkling his nose at the thought of getting spooned by a sweaty Bokuto (again). It was time to get up and get a move on. He got dressed, scrolling through emails while the blender was working its magic on a protein shake. One subject line caught his eye:

_Mandy MacClellan DVM This is about Mikasa Saotome_

Ushijima stared at the email in his inbox.

Should he open it?

Wasn't Mikasa's roommate named Mandy? Why would she send him an email? They had never met before. He poured shake into a glass, staring at the subject line. He glanced at the clock on the microwave, he had thirty seconds to get downstairs to meet Bokuto and Oikawa. Ushijima grabbed his bag, hustling out the door and to the elevator. Curiosity finally got the best of him, opening the email as he stepped on the car.

_Hi Ushijima,_

_We have never met, but this is Mandy, Mikasa's roommate. I don't know how you are doing, but I am worried about Mika. She has not been well since she came back from Japan. I know this is meddlesome, but I don't know what else to do. Mika thinks she was doing what was best by ending things between you. I'm not saying she's wrong, but I think you two should talk._

_I apologize if I am overstepping my bounds here. Mika has no idea I wrote this._

_Take care,_

_Mandy_

The elevator dinged, pulling Ushijima out of his moment of disbelief. He stepped off the elevator, looking back at the email to ensure that it existed. That it was not a figment of his imagination.

“Yo, Waka!” Bokuto called, strolling over. “What's up?” His brow furrowed. “You look like you saw a ghost.” Ushijima looked up at his friends, unable to vocalize the feelings coursing through his veins.

“What are you looking at?” Oikawa nodded at his phone, sipping an iced coffee. Ushijima swallowed, staring at the phone.

_I think you two should talk._

“Ushijima?” Oikawa called. Ushijima snapped back to reality, shoving his phone at Oikawa.

“Read this.” He cracked his knuckles as Oikawa's eyes scanned the email, peeking back up at him several times. Ushijima didn't want to acknowledge the shred of hope that was gaining momentum inside himself, but it was difficult to deny the feeling.

“When did you get this?” Oikawa reread the email.

“It was in my inbox this morning.” Ushijima accepted his phone.

“Why are you standing here?” Oikawa arched an eyebrow.

“We have yoga?” Ushijima shrugged. The setter huffed a sigh, fishing his phone out of his bag as it chirped.

“Kou-chan.” Oikawa hummed. “You get my email?” He grabbed Ushijima's wrist, leading them back to the elevator. “That's what I thought it said.” Sugawara Koushi's excited voice could be heard, chirping through the phone. “Okay yea...I'll get to it. Thanks Bye!” Oikawa ended the call, dragging the two confused attackers off the elevator on Ushijima's floor.

“Um...” Ushijima frowned.

“Unlock your apartment?” Oikawa flapped a hand at the door. Ushijima obliged, still utterly bewildered at why they weren't walking to yoga.

“Dude! What's going on!?” Bokuto whined. Oikawa ignored him, fixing a flat stare on Ushijima.

“Why are you still here?” He demanded.

“What do you mean?” Ushijima frowned.

“WHY aren't you on a plane??” Oikawa clenched his fists.

“What?” Both attackers asked. Oikawa groaned, slapping a hand to his face.

“You dense moron. GET TO AIRPORT. GET ON PLANE. FIX THIS!” Oikawa jabbed a finger at Ushijima's phone.

“But...” He hesitated. Maybe he had misunderstood the email.

“She is obviously just as bummed and sad as you are! She needs you to show up and tell her that you love her and you don't care, you will do what it takes!!” Oikawa passed the phone to Bokuto so he could read the email.

“Hang on.” Ushijima pinched his brow. This wasn't how shit worked. You didn't just impulsively fly to the other side of the GLOBE because of a roommate's emailed plea, did you?

“Wakatoshi.” Oikawa clamped his hands over the taller man's cheeks, squeezing his face. “You dense as fuck, volleyball-brained moron. Get on a damn airplane and go fix this shit.” He commanded, releasing his teammate's face. Ushijima swallowed, brain moving at a glacial pace, trying to put all the pieces together.

“What do I say?” He asked, stalling.

“Tell her how you FEEEL.” Oikawa clenched his hands for emphasis.

“HOLY SHIT BRO!” Bokuto exploded, hopping in place. “You're gonna get back together with Mika-chan!?” Oikawa's phone pinged.

“Ah Kou-chan found some tickets. Your flight leaves in 4 hours, lets go pack.” He started down the hall. Ushijima shifted his glance between his teammates, baffled.

“Pack?”

With a huff, Oikawa snagged his wrist, dragging him down the hall. Bokuto bounced along, happy grin on his face.

“This is gonna be great!” He crowed, flopping onto the bed.

“Suitcase.” Oikawa pointed at the floor. Ushijima obliged, pulling out a carry-on. “Clothes.” He unzipped the carry-on, gesturing at Ushijima.

“What?”

“Put clothes in suitcase.” Oikawa elaborated, slurping the last of his iced coffee.

“Make sure you take that green sweater that makes you look ripped.” Bokuto chimed in. “There's no way Mika-chan will be able to say no if you're wearing that.”

“Yes.” Oikawa got up, rifling through the closet. “Take these.” He held out a pair of pants.

Once Oikawa had been satisfied with the clothing choices, he and Bokuto crammed into the taxi, riding along for 'moral support' to the airport. Oikawa sent Suga's information over, informing Ushijima that the former setter would meet him at JFK and help him get out to Mikasa's house.

Traveling wasn't anything new for Ushijima, but traveling for this particular reason was...and his nerves kept him from getting any semblance of rest for the first half of the flight.

What was he supposed to say to Mikasa?

Surprise?

Baby come back?

Hello?

It was too late to ask Oikawa for advice on that front. Making it up as he went along was definitely not Ushijima's strong suit. Hopefully Suga would be able to offer some guidance on that front. He tried to not think about what would happen if Mikasa told him to go home.

What if she DIDN'T want him back?

If she didn't want him back, why was she so upset?

Exhaustion finally overtook Ushijima and he was able to get a few hours of rest. He shuffled out of the airplane, getting his bearings, slowly working his way through customs.

_(Sugawara K.): I saw your plane landed. Are you in customs? Do you have to wait for a suitcase?_

_(Ushijima): Just getting done with Customs. I brought a carry-on._

_(Sugawara K): Alright! I am waiting by ground transportation door #2. see you soon!_

Ushijima followed the crowds of people and signs towards the ground transportation exits. He spotted a somewhat familiar head of sandy blonde hair. As he drew closer, Suga's face split into a giant grin.

“Ushijima!” He waved.

“Thank you for your help.” Ushijima gave him a polite bow.

“Ahh No need to thank me!” Suga cackled, tugging on his coat. “Trains are upstairs.” He started toward an escalator, leading Ushijima along until they got on a small tran.

“Have you been to New York before?” Suga leaned against a pole.

“Once, several years ago.”

“Does she know you're coming?” Suga grinned.

“No.”

“This way.” Suga headed off the tran down to train platforms. “Here's our train.” They boarded, finding seats. “Oh my gosh, this feels like the climax of a huge romantic movie!” Suga screeched once the train was in motion. His face colored as passengers gave him odd glares at his outburst. “Sorry! Sorry! I'm too excited.”

“Thank you for your help.” Ushijima started.

“No no, don't worry about it!” Suga patted his knee. “So we are taking this train to my house then I'll drop you off at her house, sound good?”

“Yes. Don't you live in Manhattan?”

“Oh, yeah. I have a flat in SoHo, but I got this little cottage in Montauk. I totally fell in love with the vibe out there. I can do some of my work from home, so I take long weekends and it is so relaxing.”

“That does sound pleasant.”

“Yup. How are Bo and Tohru? Driving you crazy yet?” Suga smirked.

“They are doing well. Their current hobby seems to be following me around.”

“Well, they're just concerned. Break-ups are hard.”

“Have you experienced a break-up?”

“Yeah, probably more than I wanted to, but they happen.” Suga gave an embarrassed laugh.

“Sorry.”

“No no, it's fine. Shit happens, right?” He waved a hand. “Have you thought about what you're going to say when you see Mikasa?”

“I have.” Ushijima furrowed his brow.

“And?”

“I don't know what I'm going to say.” He admitted.

“You don't?” The blonde propped a hand on his chin, resting on the armrest. “Well, what do you feel for Mikasa?”

“I-I care for Saotome-san a great deal. I want her to be happy, but I want to be the reason she is happy. I enjoy spending time with her...but I'm not sure how to voice those feelings.” Ushijima explained. Suga let out a loud sigh.

“Holy shit that was romantic.” He cooed.

“It was?” Ushijima grimaced. Other passengers kept staring at them.

“Like...if a guy said that to me, I would never let him go.” Suga clutched a hand over his heart. “God...just, hang on, I gotta write that down.” He pulled his phone out, typing furiously.

“So I should say that?”

“Yes. You need to say that, then kiss her, then,” He swept his hands out wide. “Wedding bells!” The blonde sang out.

“Wedding?”

“Of course! Did you get a ring yet?”

“Wha...” Ushijima stared at the over-excited man across from him, agape.

“Okay okay, sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself here.” Suga laughed. “We'll save planning how you propose for next time.” He winked.

Suga pulled into the drive of a two-story home, putting his car in park.

“Is she home?” The house was dimly lit. Ushijima looked at the text he had gotten from Oikawa in regards to Mikasa's location. He suddenly wanted to vomit.

“Oikawa said she would be home in 30 minutes.” He swallowed his nerves.

“You want me to wait? It's pretty cold out.” Suga offered.

“You do not have to. I will call you if I need.” Ushijima stepped out of the car, knowing if he didn't shut the door, he would probably crawl back in and demand Suga take him back to the airport.

“Sounds good...GOOD LUCK!!” Suga cheered before pulling away. Ushijima exhaled a breath, steeling himself before walking to the porch. He rang the doorbell and was somewhat relieved when no one answered. He sat on the top step, leaning against a beam. His phone vibrated in his pocket.

_(Oikawa): Shit, Iwa-chan said she got held up, and said she won't be back until after 7:30._

_(Oikawa): You okay?_

_(Ushiwaka): yes._

_(Oikawa): Nervous?_

_(Ushiwaka): Somewhat._

_(Oikawa): You think of what you're gonna say?_

_(Ushiwaka): Yes. Sugawara helped me with that._

_(Oikawa): He is so good at that shit. Good luck!!_

_(Ushiwaka): Thank you._

Ushijima rolled a shoulder, leaning his head against the beam. Despite it being colder than he expected, he drifted off quickly.

The sound of a vehicle pulling into the gravel drive and a dog barking roused Ushijima from his short nap. A tall, red-headed girl climbed out of the SUV, getting the dog out. She walked up to the porch, studying him.

“Can I help you?” She asked, one hand propped on her hip, one hand holding the leash. The dog leaned closer, sniffing at him. Ushijima sat up.

“Uh...” He had no idea what to say. Was this Mandy? Did he just mention the email and hope she was Mandy? The girl squinted in the dim light from the porch.

“Holy shit...” She drawled, stepping closer. “You're the volleyball guy.” The dog snuffled his sleeve, trying to fit its gangly frame into his lap. “Riley, chill.”

“Yes?” He offered, hoping that she wouldn't call the police after finding a person asleep on the porch. The girl paused at the top of the steps, examining him.

“I guess you got my email then.” She laughed.

“I did.” He confirmed. She thrust a hand out at him.

“I'm Mandy. Come inside, you're probably freezing.” She smiled, helping him to his feet.

“Thank you. Ushijima Wakatoshi.” He bowed. The dog jumped up, licking his face.

“Riley! Chill!” She scolded, tugging the dog back. “This is Riley. He has zero chill when it comes to new humans. The dog barked, crooked tail wagging furiously.

“Hello.” He reached out to pat the dog. Mandy showed him inside.

“Set your stuff down by the couch. You want coffee, tea, beer?” She strolled towards the kitchen, wood floors creaking underfoot. Riley bound around Ushijima, barking and grumbling happily at his new friend.

“Whatever you make is fine.” He trailed along, patting the dog, taking in the cozy furnishings.

“If you want to sit, there are stools under the bar, or the dinner chairs.” Mandy waved a hand, preparing coffee. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.” Ushijima leaned a hip against the counter, tired of sitting.

“Sounds like Mika got held up, they are packing up stuff to head to Florida next week.”

“Oh.” The clock on the stove read 7:20.

“So you just flew in from Japan?” Mandy slid a mug of coffee across the bar. “Sugar is in that bowl, milk's in the fridge.”

“Yes.” He took a sip of the coffee, hiding a wince at the strength of it. He was going to be awake for the next 3 days if he drank the entire mug.

“Does Mika know you're here?” Mandy asked, leaning against the counter across from him.

“No.” He stared at the coffee. “I came unannounced.”

“Ah...right.” She grinned over her mug. “A surprise.”

“Yes.”

“So um, if you want to freshen up, shower, whatever there is a bathroom upstairs on the right.” Mandy pointed at the hall behind him. “Towels and stuff are on a shelf behind the door. Mika's room is to your left when you come out of the bathroom.”

“Thank you.” He nodded, setting the coffee down on the counter. He carried his suitcase upstairs, finding Mikasa's room. He flipped on the light, stepping in the door. Mikasa Saotome never figured out how to organize anything. The bed was hastily made, dirty clothes piled around the laundry basket because folded clean clothes were still in it. A sock was sticking out of a drawer. Things that would drive Ushijima through the roof in his own space were so...comforting to him in this room. Exhaling a deep breath, he opened his suitcase.

Mikasa wasn't stupid. She knew Iwaizumi was up to something. Why else would he be so insistent upon knowing exactly when she was getting home from the barn today?

_You should talk to him._

The statement wound through her head like a python, pinching and squeezing inside her skull until her head ached. She figured that Iwaizumi was going to video call her and lecture her about pussing out on not emailing, texting, or calling a certain someone since their text conversation last week. 

She wasn't in the mood.

She had been awake since 5am, working on the packing list and trying to organize the schedule for shipping twenty-five horses to Florida next week. All she wanted was a sandwich, a beer, and a shower...not necessarily in that order. She opened the front door, finding a pair of black sneakers next to Mandy's boots.

A really _big_ pair of sneakers.

She held still, listening for a man's voice. Since when did Mandy have a boyfriend? Mikasa had never really gotten that deep into her roommate's romantic life in the 3 years they shared a house, but she was quite certain her friend did not like men in that manner.

“I'm home.” Mikasa called, deciding to play stupid.

“Kitchen.” Mandy called back. Riley came rumbling and grumbling down the stairs to greet her before heading back up.

Strange.

Mikasa strolled into the kitchen to find Mandy perched on the counter, sipping coffee, reading something on her phone. Mikasa spotted a mug of coffee on the counter of the bar.

“What's going on?” Mikasa studied her friend.

“Y'know.” Mandy shrugged, glancing up from her phone.

“Mandy.” Mikasa put her hands on her hips.

“Mika.” Mandy set her phone down, hopping to her feet.

“Since when did you get a boyfriend?” Mikasa challenged.

“It's not my boyfriend.” She rolled her eyes, tossing red hair over her shoulder. “So what happened was, I found this stray animal sleeping on the porch when I got home.”

“Stray animal?” Mikasa frowned. “Weird name for a booty call, but okay.”

“No no, not a booty call.” She laughed.

“So who the hell is he?” Mikasa demanded. Why was Mandy being so weird?

“Pretty sure you'll figure it out.” Mandy pointed behind her. Mikasa turned to find Ushijima standing in the doorway, looking extremely uncomfortable.

Her heart surged in her chest.

What in the hell was he doing in her kitchen?

She swallowed, looking him over before turning back to Mandy.

“Oh...” She huffed. She didn't speak for a few moments, struggling to contain her emotions. “Why did you let him in the house?” She gave Mandy a look that promised a headlock later.

“He looked pretty pathetic.” Mandy shrugged. “Was asleep on the porch. I swear I could hear that damn 'Arms of the Angels' song playing in the background.” She groused.

“I swear, you and adopting pathetic-looking animals...” Mikasa grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It's a gift.” Mandy chirped, sliding a mug of coffee to her. “I'm gonna meet AJ and the girls at Taco Time, talk to you later, okay?” She pocketed her phone, strolling out of the kitchen. “Nice to meet you.” She patted Ushijima on the shoulder on her way out the door. He nodded at her, glancing back at Mikasa. She took a sip of the coffee, cringing.

“God she cannot make coffee.” She frowned. Ushijima shifted his weight, looking like he was going to say something. He released a breath, walking over to sit on a stool at the counter, cracking his knuckles. His eyes shifted between his hands and Mikasa a few times.

“So...you're here.” She spoke, knowing that if left to his own devices, Ushijima would just get stuck in his head and never say what was bothering him.

“Yes.” His head bobbed.

“Why?” She turned toward him, folding her arms over her chest.

“To speak with you.” He answered, shifting on the stool to face her.

“This is a bit extreme.” She pursed her lips, patience wearing thin. How was she supposed to keep it together, when he was clearly struggling with how he felt? Ushijima was obviously here to talk to her, probably at the bidding of their friends, but what was the point?

How would things be any different than before?

“Sa...Mikasa-san. This would be better said face to face.” He started, clearing his throat.

“Please don't say it.” She asked, voice thick.

“Why?”

“Because I don't want to hurt you, Wakatoshi.” Her voice wavered, everything she had been struggling with, to get over, to bury was getting pulled to the surface.

“Maybe you should let me choose if it will hurt me or not.” He commented, brow furrowed. He worried his lower lip before continuing. “It was wrong of me to expect you to feel the same way I do. At the same time, I care about you Mikasa. I enjoy spending my free time with you. I want you to be happy, but I want to be part of the reason you are happy...” He trailed off, looking at his hands. Mikasa swallowed, feeling her face grow hot, tears prickling behind her eyes.

This was the worst possible thing that could happen, right?

She had to get over Ushijima and move on, right?

But she didn't WANT to get over him.

She wanted this giant volley-brained dork in her life.

“You...stupid log” She huffed, tears overflowing. He glanced up at her in confusion as she stormed across the kitchen. “You can't do this to me!” She hissed, hands grasping the front of his sweater.

“Do what?” He asked, prying her hands off of his shirt. “Make you cry?”

“No stupid.” She spat, wiping her face on her sleeve. “Remind me of how much I care about you.” Her voice strained and wavered. Mikasa leaned her forehead against his chest, tears flowing, a sob pushing out of her. His arms tucked around her, pulling her closer, his fingers pressing into her ribs. Another sob escaped from her. She had missed this...Him. All of her frustrations turned to relief because the one thing she had wanted more than anything had not been lost. Ushijima still felt the same way about her. She felt him press a kiss to the crown of her head.

“You are important to me.” He confessed.

“How is it going to be any different than before?” Mikasa mumbled, afraid to look at him, but she had to know. "I'm busier now than I was last year, the Olympics are coming up again, we're going to be in the same boat.” She shook her head.

“But we are both okay with it, so it won't be an issue?” He pondered. “I have considered retiring after this next medal...” He trailed off. Mikasa shoved him back, eyes wide.

“Retire?” She sputtered.

“It is a possibility.” He shrugged.

“But...volleyball is your life!” She yelped.

“It is...but not my entire life.” He commented, resting a hand on her hip. “Priorities change as we age.” He leaned over, pressing their lips together in a lingering kiss.

“Who are you and what have you done with Ushijima Wakatoshi?” Mikasa mumbled. He huffed a laugh against her mouth.

“I am myself, Mikasa-san.”

“But,” She leaned back, “You would be willing to give it all up and quit?”

“I don't think of it as giving something up, so much as choosing to work toward another goal.” He answered after some thought. “I have accomplished what I set out to do with my volleyball career. It would be possible for me to coach or manage the family business...Although Hayato has been running it for the past two years.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “He would probably tell me I was in the way.”

“But I can't ask you to do this, Wakatoshi.” Mikasa pleaded with him. What if he gave it all up, regretted his choice and they broke up? He shook his head, as if he could read all of her anxious thoughts.

“I told you I would wait for you, Mikasa-san.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I am willing to wait as long as you would like me to. Not having you around...made me realize what is important.”

“But Waka-” He silenced her protest with a kiss.

“You are important to me. More than everything else. I am being selfish, but I don't want anyone else.” He told her, stroking a thumb along her cheek.

Mikasa stared at him, lost. She wanted this. He said he wanted it, too, but would he change his mind? What if SHE changed her mind?

She exhaled a shaky breath, looking at her feet. She had to stop overthinking everything. Ushijima had just jumped on a plane and flew across the globe to talk to her, six months after she had ended things.

That was kind of a huge clue that he really wanted to get back together...

Well, if that was what he wanted, who was Mikasa to deny it?

“Okay then.” She gave him a smirk. “After the Olympics, we sit down and figure out what we are doing next?”

“Uhm?” His eyes widened, clearly not expecting her to agree so easily.

“I said okay? I'm good with this.” She tapped the end of his nose. “Who am I to tell you what to do with your life? If you truly feel that way, then great.” She grinned. “I mean, I gotta admit it is flattering.”

“Flattering?” His head tilted slightly.

“Yea, to have the great Miracle Boy Ushijima Wakatoshi willing to give it all up, to spend his life in domestic bliss with me.” She giggled.

“If you say so.” He smiled. She wrapped her arms around his ribs, squeezing him tight. 

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“For?” He hummed, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“For not letting me make the biggest mistake of my life.” She admitted, leaning back to meet his eyes. “I was wrong, it felt wrong...”

“Why did you do it then?” He asked, curious.

“I was scared you would get tired of me only being able to give you so much, and I didn't want to get hurt.” She confessed.

“Why didn't you talk to me about what you were feeling?”

“Uh...you're not exactly a talker, Wakatoshi.” She teased.

“I am aware, but that doesn't mean I don't want to hear your thoughts or feelings on matters.”

“I'm sorry. I am not good at talking about my feelings.” She shook her head.

“Then practice.”

“Huh?” She stared at him.

“Practice is the only way to improve yourself, Mikasa-san.” He pointed out.

“You Log.” She laughed, pulling him closer for a kiss. “I promise I will talk to you about things from now on, even if I don't know what to do about them.”

“I will do the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screeching*  
> I am not good at break-up/make-up stuff, but I think I did pretty decent.  
> I have a lil epilogue for the final chapter, just gotta...finish it up.
> 
> Thank you for reading/comments/kudos!!!


	4. Start Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusion/Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, but wraps things up.

“You're lucky it was a mild tear.” Ushijima accepted a pair of crutches from Bokuto, getting to his feet.

“That is the consensus.” He grunted, putting too much weight on his left foot.

“At least it happened in the finals.” Bokuto continued, holding the door open. “It would have sucked to have gotten Silver because you got hurt earlier in the playoffs.”

“That is true.” Ushijima agreed, following his teammate down the hall. Leaping for a unexpected attack and landing on someone's foot in the finals versus Brazil earlier in the day was not how Ushijima expected to end his final Olympic games...or his career.

Not that he had TOLD anyone he had made the decision to retire.

No one except Mikasa.

She had rolled her eyes and laughed, acknowledging his choice with a 'if that's what you really want, go for it.'

Bokuto helped him take a seat at the long table set up for the press conference.

“You're going to live, I see...” Oikawa hummed, smirk on his face.

“Yes.”

“And here I thought I could finally have a chance to take the spotlight.” The setter huffed with a laugh.

The press conference started with questions being fired off.

“Ushijima-san, can you update us on your injury?”

Ushijima exhaled a quiet breath. “Yes. It is a mild collateral ligament tear in my ankle.”

“Will you need surgery or time off? Are you concerned how this will affect your career?”

“It should only require time off and rehab.” He cleared his throat. “But I am not concerned.” Oikawa's head snapped around in his peripheral vision. “I have decided to retire from competitive play.”

The room exploded.

“Please let Ushijima-san finish!” The moderator fought for control.

“I have not made this decision lightly, but I feel that I have accomplished what I set out to do with this aspect of my life.” He glanced at Oikawa and Bokuto on either side. “I think the National Team will not have to make many adjustments in my wake.” He got to his feet, using the chair for stability. “Thank you all for your support all these years.” Ushijima bowed deeply, causing the room to erupt again.

“You sure made a mess of things.” Oikawa snapped, closing the door to the locker room.

“I apologize. I did not mean to.” Ushijima got to his feet. “Is the ceremony about to start?”

“Yes.” Oikawa leaned against the door.

“Is something wrong?”

“Why didn't you tell us?” Oikawa demanded.

“I was not sure when a good time to tell you all would be. I didn't want to distract everyone from the game.”

“We're your fucking teammates.” Oikawa hissed. “How many years have we played together and you couldn't...” He trailed off, cutting his glare.

“Guys we're gonna be late!” Bokuto pounded on the door. Oikawa snatched it open, pushing past the wing spiker.

“Dude.” Bokuto clapped a hand to Ushijima's back. “You really got Oikawa wound up.”

“I did not mean to cause trouble.” He mumbled.

“Yeah well, he's just pissed because he's gonna miss you.” Bokuto grinned. “We're all going to miss you.” He pursed his lips.

“I will miss everyone as well.” Ushijima admitted. They were ushered out onto the podium with the rest of the National Olympic team.

“Dammit.” Bokuto grunted. “I told myself I wouldn't cry this time, and you had to screw it all up.”

“Bokuto-san, you cry every time.” Kageyama furrowed his brow.

“I do not!” Bokuto protested. “It's all Waka's fault!” He looped his arm around Ushijima's waist. “So you gotta take responsibility.”

“I am not going to marry you, Bokuto.”

“Does that mean you're gonna marry Mika-chan!?!” The wing spiker screeched as Oikawa clamped a hand over his mouth.

*

Mikasa took a deep breath, staring at the cross-country course map one last time. Cross-country was her worst discipline in the three-day event. She had to be on fire today.

To be more accurate, her newest horse, Lobo, had to be on fire. She simply had to aim him in the right direction and not fall off. It was a huge risk taking a younger horse to a competition as enormous as the Olympics, but since when had Mikasa been a chickenshit? She strolled back to the stabling area, finding Ushijima resting on the tack trunk in front of Lobo's stall. Her eyes drifted over the walking cast on his left leg, then up to his face.

“How did you get here?” She propped a hand on her hip.

“Walked?” He gestured a hand toward the cast. “I am off crutches for the time being.”

“Did you get up at 3am?”

“No. I got up when you did...” His brow furrowed.

“Ugh. I meant how many hours did it take you to walk here?” She huffed, peering in at her horse. The gelding gave her a stare before continuing to lick his empty feed tub.

“It took me fifteen minutes to walk here from the tram stop.”

“Right.” She exhaled a long breath.

“Are you prepared?”

“As I can be. It's up to this guy now.” She waved a groom over, starting to get the horse ready.

“Does he feel ready?” Ushijima watched them brush and tack the tall, grey gelding.

“As long as I can get him pointed in the right direction, we should be fine.” Mikasa grinned, checking her saddle. She fastened her numbers and fixed her hair.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” She grinned, tugging on her gloves and grabbing her helmet.

“Mikasa, wait?” Ushijima got to his feet, ambling over. He leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Kick it's ass.”

“Since you said so,” She winked, leading the horse out into the staging area.

*

Mikasa let herself into her house, kicking her boots off at the door. Mandy's truck was gone, as was Riley, so it was safe to assume she was on a work mission. Her stomach rumbled at the aroma of dinner wafting from the kitchen.

“You're doing this whole domestic thing hardcore, aren't you?” She teased, sliding her arms around Ushijima's waist. He stirred something before turning to her.

“I guess?” He shrugged. “Mandy had to go to work. She asked that we save her some dinner.”

“Whatcha makin'?” Mikasa peered into a pot.

“Chili.”

“Do you even know what chili is supposed to taste like?” Mikasa grabbed a spoon to sample the dish.

“Mandy explained everything in detail and left me directions.”

“Which means it's gonna be hot as hell.” Mikasa grumbled. Much to her surprise, it tasted much less five-alarm hot, and more smoky spicy. “This is pretty good.”

“Please do not tell Mandy I didn't follow her directions.”

“I won't!” Mikasa laughed.

“Her coffee is terrible. I looked at the recipe and compared it to others. It seemed...extreme.” He confessed.

“That's one way of describing it.” Mikasa grabbed bowls.

“To be safe, I asked your mom for help.” He filled a bowl.

“You...talked to my mom?” Mikasa hesitated.

“Of course.” He passed her another bowl. “I also needed to know how to make cornbread.” Ushijima pointed out, nodding at the plate on the table.

“Oh...”

“Your father is doing well.”

“Yeah?” Mikasa put the bowls on the table.

“I wanted to ask you about this.” Ushijima set a manila folder on the table beside her bowl. Mikasa opened the folder, scanning the documents, glad she was sitting down.

“You bought a house?” She grabbed her phone, typing in the address with shaky fingers.

“A farm.” He confirmed. Mikasa stared at the location icon on the map. It was a private farm that had been up for sale for a few months. Mikasa and Mandy had lusted after it, but neither had gone any further after seeing the asking price.

“How did? Whe-where did you get the money for this?” Mikasa stammered, leafing through the documents again.

“I earned it with salary and endorsements?” He shrugged, tucking in to his dinner.

“No you Log. I mean, this place was expensive...” Mikasa shook a paper at him while he chewed a bite.

“Mikasa...I inherited the family business two years ago. I have that income in addition to endorsements.” He explained.

“Do you even know the first thing about running a horse farm?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“No, but you should be able to handle that.” He gave her a slight smile. “There is a room on the first floor that I wish to use as an office. That is all the space I require.”

“For real? You're just buying me a farm? Like that?” She took a bite.

“Of course.” He set his spoon down. “Mikasa, I would like to stay with you as long as you will have me.” Mikasa paused, spoon halfway to her mouth. She took in Ushijima's earnest stare.

“Stupid Log.” She huffed, then took a bite. “That was the shittiest proposal ever.” She grumbled after swallowing.

“I'm sorry?” Ushijima frowned.

“You...” Mikasa exhaled a tired breath. “You know what? Fine. Yes. I'll marry your dense volley-brained ass, okay?” She set her spoon in her bowl, folding her arms on the table. Ushijima stared at her, agape.

“You will?” He asked, not quite sure how the conversation reached this location, but not against the discussion at all.

“Wakatoshi, that is not the kind of question you answer with a question...” Mikasa groaned getting to her feet.

“Oh.” His cheeks pinked as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Is this the part where I tell you I love you?” She teased with a laugh.

“If that is how you feel.” He confirmed.

“Good, because I love you, Ushijima Wakatoshi, even if you are the most gigantic Log of all times.” She kissed the end of his nose.

“I love you as well, Saotome-san.”

“Really?” She gave him a flat look before bursting into giggles. He pulled her into a tight hug, leaning his chin on her shoulder.

“I love you Mikasa.” He mumbled into her hair.

*

Ushijima stirred as an alarm chirped in excited tones. The alarm was silenced with a quiet grunt as he felt Mikasa sit up next to him. She exhaled a long breath, undoubtedly stretching. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, glancing at her.

“Sorry I woke you up.” She slid out of bed, stretching an arm in front of her.

“It's fine.” He shrugged, scooting out of bed.

“You don't have to get up.” She mused. “It's five am.”

“I won't be able to go back to sleep. I am accustomed to waking up at this time.” He stretched arms overhead before getting dressed.

“Suit yourself.” Mikasa chuckled, strolling to the bathroom. “What are you gonna do?” She washed her face in the sink.

“I should go for a run.” He sat on the bed to tug on socks.

“You're allowed to run now?” Mikasa asked, glancing out of the bathroom. Ushijima stared at his left ankle, slowly rotating it through its range of motion with no resistance or pain.

“I am.” He answered, getting to his feet.

“Okay then.” She chirped, pulling on a shirt and breeches. They headed downstairs, Mikasa starting coffee. “You know I made a nice path around the farm perimeter to use for cool out walks. There aren't any holes or spots you could reinjure yourself on and it's probably safer than the roads.” She poured her coffee into an insulated mug.

“I won't bother anyone by using it?”

“Not at all. It's a couple of miles long. Perfect for a Log that is used to running all over the Japanese countryside.” She smirked, yanking on her boots.

“Is it?” He tied the laces of his shoes, following Mikasa out into the morning, smile on his face. He watched Mikasa stroll across the yard towards the barn, already bustling with activity. He walked along a path to the trail coursing along the fence before picking up his pace. Ushijima could get used to this.

After all, it was just the beginning of great things to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! I hope ya'll enjoyed the second round of these two dorks!
> 
> Thanks for the support!!

**Author's Note:**

> Yeaaaaaaaaaa  
> *finger guns*  
> No really, I swear it gets better...
> 
> Thanks for reading/comments/kudos!!


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